Prue eyed him from afar and studied him with her glittering, hard eyes. The mysterious man with the toothy, crooked grin.
“Hmm, perfect teeth.” She picked up her bag and flounced towards his direction. Then like a cunning vixen she maneuvered herself between him and the other person he was speaking to. Prue’s eyes dwelt with naïve pleasure on his handsome face. He looked even more luscious up close and personal.
“Oh hocus pocus,” she heard him say as his eyes slithered away from the other lawyers towards her. The stranger made a quarter turn and stared at Prue out of a pair of rather dreamy pale eyes set close to a narrow nose.
“Oh no, look Prue’s done it again” Piper said. “She’s found a positive hunk out of all these fuddy duddies here. Some sisters have all the luck.” She sounded jealous.
Prue thought she’d play it sheepish. With him being English he was probably rather reserved; as she looked attentively downwards and then slowly her eyes crept back to the meaty package of manliness. Six foot, dressed in a black pin stripe suit – how de rigueur.
“Hello. I’m Prue Halliwell. Are you here for the collection too?”
“Yes, I am actually. My chambers is handling the sponsorship and the legal formalities for the exhibition.”
As he opened his mouth, Prue was devoured by his melting voice. Chambers? Prue loved the sound of that word. Chambers as in bed she thought longingly.
“So you’re into P.R then?” She gushed timidly.
“No – not really – well, I suppose you could call it P.R of a certain nature. I’m actually a barrister.” He boasted.
“Oh a lawyer. Well I’ve left my lawyer jokes at home but I could have amused you with a lot, especially the, ‘How many lawyers does it take to change a lightbulb?’ ones.” Prue jibed with dry humor.
“Oh really. I always make a quick comeback from those. My personal favorite being “What do you call 100 clients at the bottom of the sea? Non compos mentis’. Do you get it?” Kane joked. “You’re American?” he queried. “In that case I shouldn’t have mentioned chambers then. Didn’t mean it to sound like a dungeon and I’ve been let out for good behavior.”
“Of course I am, silly! Let out to meet me. Perfect timing! I’m doing a photoshoot for my magazine, 415. So you must know plenty about this collection. I should interview you and probably take some shots too. If you don’t mind?” Enthused Prue.
“Well..” he appeared to consider. “If you take your drink here and dine with me, we shall see..”
With that the conversation sputtered to a stop. Prue imagined she was doing so well conversing with the English. Obviously looks weren’t everything and he seemed to be lacking personality.
“Oh I didn’t catch your name.” Prue added quickly.
“That’s probably because I didn’t throw it.” Kane uttered a snort, which ran through the museum like a pistol shot. “You know our name is one of the very first things we’re supposed to give. Excuse my manners. It’s Kane Willis-Kincaid.”
Prue said it to herself.
“Kane Kincaid just rolls off the tongue. That’s an unusual name.”
“Not really. It’s Kane with a ‘K’ and it pays to have a double-barreled name in my line of work. Rather posh wouldn’t you say,” as he gave her a wink.
Phoebe and Perdita wondered if they should say anything about what just happened or if they should just put it down to prosperity.
“Boy that was a strange episode.” Phoebe remarked frankly. “I’ve never been through anything like that before.”
“Anything like what? Having a simultaneous vision? This is new to me too. I never thought anyone else got visions. This sounds silly I know, but when I first realized I had the power to alter peoples’ thoughts and used to get weird visions, I used to put it down to my name. It’s quite unique you know.” Perdita declared.
Phoebe was flabbergasted to find a complete stranger sharing such feelings out aloud with her. They hardly knew each other and yet here was this girl telling her all sorts of things you could have been burned at the stake for even thinking, in past century’s back home.
“Perdita means “the lost one.” My ancestors, some of them, were from New Orleans. But I also have English and Spanish blood as well as Persian. My family tree also boasts a Melinda Warren and I’m supposed to be a direct descendant. Several generations, removed of course.” Perdita continued rapidly. “That’s perhaps why we both saw a family tree in our visions, right? Which may make us family or not? Distant cousins perhaps?" She was resigned in her questioning.
Before Phoebe had a chance to answer her or even to take in what she had said Perdita waspishly carried on.
“But anyway you must have heard of the legend of Perdita? At least it’s supposed to be a legend. I never really paid any heed to legends until I found out who I really was. Well, at any rate, who my ancestors were.”
The legend foretold of a young man who vowed his love to a girl named Perdita whom he had met at a ball. After he, forsaked her. Lost her. Because of his regret and woe he began a tradition of sending out money, in the form of a dowry, to poor, young brides-to-be in New Orleans. So other women wouldn’t have to suffer like she did and not be able to marry for lack of money. It became a tradition in memory of his forgotten, lost love, Perdita: “the lost one.”
Phoebe listened with intense vigor.
“At last someone who talks as much as me.” Phoebe said in silent wonder.
“Oh excuse me, I’m needed over there. It was good meeting you, I hope to see you again before you return home.” With that, she flew out of the room like a feather in the breeze.
No sooner had Perdita gone, the lights went out. Two luminous, green lights were seen. It wasn’t a power cut but a demon making his grand entrance. The green was the green of his eyes. He was after the golden chalice Phoebe saw in the glass case.
“Hurry Piper freeze him.” Shouted Phoebe shakily.
“I’m trying. It’s not working!”
The demon floated past them with his fiery body pausing to stretch out and grab Piper. She threw herself to the floor and rolled under the ice sculpture on the table. Out of his reach he turned and threw fireballs, setting the giant navy blue, velvet curtains aflame. Shattering the glass, a dark figure grasped the chalice and ran out.
Chaos ensued as people started running to escape the flames.
Prue returned from her excursion from the ladies. Saw what was happening and attempted to thwart back the demon with her powers. It was hopeless. Her actions were in vain. Nothing seemed to stop the dreaded demon dead in his tracks. In a brief moment the demon had disappeared in a flash of fire and brimstone. Prue desperately searched for her sisters.